


A Golden Star Chart

by marreena



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Kissing, slight body worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marreena/pseuds/marreena
Summary: Lup's freckles make a pattern that Lucretia had memorized after the second time they had met each other.





	A Golden Star Chart

**Author's Note:**

> love lup, love luc

Lucretia does not really mind it when Lup wanders into her room—most of them tend to visit each other in their rooms, so it is nothing out of the ordinary. As long as Lup does not mess with any of her journals as she does with Barry's, Lucretia is fine with her in here while she finishes up cataloguing some of Merle’s and Davenport’s latest logs. 

Lup has also learned that if she waits long enough for Lucretia to be done, that she will be rewarded with her attention, something that Lucretia has slowly learned that she needs like a plant needs water. 

Lucretia doesn’t understand why she wants it from her—Barry was plenty willingly to kiss the ground she walked on, Taako tended to attach to her hip the second she demanded it, and even Magnus would slap her back and let her use him as a chair. The best that Lucretia can offer is to listen to her stories, she feels like she has barely anything to offer to this relationship, or however Lup defines it.

And yet, Lup still comes into her room after her work out and lies down on Lucretia’s bed, flipping through a data pad as she waits for Lucretia to finish up her work. 

It’s…embarrassing too. How she gets distracted at the thought of Lup on her bed in just her tank top and shorts and still a bit sweaty after working out—thankfully she listened to Lucretia last time she did this and brought a towel to lay on her bed.

 But… _still_. She can’t stop thinking about the dark curls that stuck to her face when she knocked on Lucretia’s door and poked her head in. Or the sweeps of her collarbones and the line of her shoulder and neck. The freckles and moles that spotted her in a pattern that marked her unique from her brother. 

It was so much that Lucretia was practically just copying Merle’s report now and she really should not considering how poorly he writes it sometimes with exaggerations that throw the story off. Just this one time, she supposes Merle will catch a fish the size of both him and Davenport put together. For one of the first times in her life, she does not want to write—although, she has a feeling this might become reoccurring. 

With the last line on the page and copied, she sighs and stretches, feeling her back crack with each breath and movement. There is a part of her that wants to keep stretching as she’s nervous to see what Lup might want with her. Lup can be intense, especially in close quarters where there is no one else to distract her. 

Lucretia bites the bullet and puts away her journals. Behind her, she can almost feel and hear Lup’s attention on her, watching her, waiting to pounce the moment Lucretia allows for it. She organizes her desk for a brief moment wondering how much longer she can draw this out for before standing up and turning to Lup. 

Lup sits like she’s been waiting her entire life for Lucretia to come and is willing to wait even longer if need be. Her legs are clumsily tucked underneath herself and she’s still tapping away on her data pad at whatever menial game her and Taako play. 

Her eyes dart up once to Lucretia leaning against the desk and she raises a curious brow, “Somethin’ tying you there or what, Luc?” 

There is not something tying her to her desk, per se, but more making her hesitate from going over to her bed. Lucretia’s crush is obvious and it has been written down in her journals so there is no reason to deny it, especially to herself when she is the source. The proof is in her work and the way that she cannot stop staring at Lup, at being drawn to Lup with multiple hands tugging at her. 

At her own hands reaching for her.

She writes about Lup a lot—about herself a lot. It helps sorts out her feelings and categorizes them. For Lup, she feels so much—fear and apprehension are always underlying, as they are with most of her interactions with those on the ship, but also anticipation and joy. 

All in all, without getting too deep into her own personal feelings and past, she considers it a _school girl crush_. 

Embarrassing and fluttering, shy and candid, all her feelings hidden away behind a blush that’s triggered simply by seeing Lup’s crooked smile. 

And something that’s entirely hers. 

She shrugs and looks away from Lup back to her desk to see if there truly was anything there to keep her at her desk, anything to delay the fact that she does not know how to respond _ever_  to Lup. 

Lucretia shakes her legs just a bit and then pushes off the desk, “Oh, I guess there were no chains today,” the joke is off her lips easier than ever. Something about being on an inclosed ship and having to interact with people almost constantly has made her incredibly sociable compared to before. Having to constantly be prepared to interact or rather _react_  to Lup has gifted her with social skills never seen before by people. 

The reaction is instantaneous on Lup’s face—it cracks. Her grin takes up her entire face and she slaps a hand over her mouth as the giggles roll off her tongue and muted by her lips that are sealed tight. “Getting better at that, huh, Lucretia?” she teases, despite the absolute joy in her eyes of Lucretia playing back, the desperation for more. 

She sits next to her on the side bed with her legs still hanging off the side unlike Lup’s—it’d be too intimate if they were both curled on the bed. There still has to be some distance, for Lucretia’s sake. “I’ve picked up a few things in these months,” she shrugs, letting her hands fall to her lap. They ache at the end of the day and more so when she stops writing and the exhaustion finally sets into her joints. 

She’ll have to ask Barry or Merle if there’s anything she can do to ease the pain and slow down the inevitable arthritis.

She keeps her eyes cast down when she asks, “What did you need from me?” 

Lup laughs and that causes her to look up to catch that look on her face—her eyes and nose crinkling and just a hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, “Just checkin on my favorite biographer and seeing if she’s still writing me as the hottest in the group?”

“Who else would I put?” she half jokes. 

She shrugs and leans agains the wall, suddenly picking at something on her leg, “I guess Taako’d be cool. I’d win by association. Pretty sure you don’t got a weird dad thing for Merle or Davenport, and Barry’s an acquired taste, so I guess maybe Mags too? I don’t know, Luc, do you like big ol’ burly men who could bench press you to oblivion?” 

In all honesty, no. Not at all, but she will not say that out loud because she also is quite aware of Lup’s inability to keep some delicate things a secret, and will most likely end up right back to Magnus as a result. Now Lucretia might not know Magnus all too well despite many dinners together, but she knows that he does not like his strength contested—which is how Lup will twist it. 

Which is how this will end with her being thrown over Magnus’ head at dinner. 

“There’s something missing,” she admits as bait, and oh, does it work. 

Lup blinks a couple times before she narrows her eyes and then shuffles her hands in the universal _go on_. 

Lucretia laughs softly, stretching out her hands on her lap, “Can’t tell you all my secrets.” 

“You could, though. Literally nothing here stopping you,” Lup insists. 

“ _You_ are,” Lucretia presses back and Lup knows instantly what she means and sticks her tongue out. 

“Bor- _ing_ ,” she hums and kicks her with her foot. “I would tell you my stuff.” 

“No, you wouldn’t. You would _maybe_  tell Taako.” 

“You know, I came here for a reason.”

“I thought you didn’t.”

“Well, actually, I came here because I made bet with Taak.”

She immediately stands at that but Lup grabs her hand, “Luc, _please_.”  Even though there is still that coy look on her face, it isn’t as teasing as when she looks at Barry in the morning at breakfast when the poor man is still half asleep and slowly slipping into his bagel. 

Lucretia sighs and lets her be pulled back onto her bed, but that is not all. When Lup pulls her hand away, a small pen is left in her hand that is definitely not one of hers. She rolls it over in her hand a couple times and brings it up to inspect it. 

It’s a makeup pen, so again, definitely not one of hers. 

She stumbles a bit at that, Lucretia does not really bother with makeup unlike both Taako and Lup do, so her throat goes dry as she looks back at Lup. “I don’t…really do make up. I’m sure you’re much better and if not you, well, Taako could—“ 

Lup shakes her head, though, “Not make up, babe. Wanna try something a bit different,” and just like that, she taps her face, and all of the freckles and beauty marks disappear. 

It looks… _wrong_ , and Lucretia desperately tries not to make a face but she can already feel the grimace tugging at her lips. Lup laughs, and even that seems wrong for some reason, there’s just too much missing. “Not a good look?” she asks and pulls her hair back with a hair tie, missing quite a bit of strands, still.

She wouldn’t necessarily say that just, “Jarring.” She clears her throat and tries to not notice how even on her shoulders and collarbones are now naked—even farther down her legs are bare besides the thin scars that are not quite covered by her shorts. 

“So the point is, me and Taako were talking and apparently Maggy happened to be in the same room, and well, we were talking about how y’all couldn’t tell us apart. Maggy pointed out that our freckles are different,” which they are, easily, Lucretia notes, “ _Anyway_ , I bet you could remember where they were.” 

It’s foolish to think she wouldn’t. Lucretia could sketch them all from memory, and freckles and moles are such identifying features she figures she could probably do the same for everyone. 

She hesitates for a moment, “Do you… want me to draw them on you?” she guesses, feeling unsure about herself and the situation.

“Yeah, if that’s chill.”

Lucretia nods even before she considers her options. Now, that she’s committed, she hesitates. 

_Where does she start_? There does not seem to be a right answer, but if that’s true then there isn’t any wrong answers either. The only problem would be if she were to wait too long to actually do anything, irritating Lup. 

Just as Lup opens her mouth, Lucretia presses the pen against  her shoulder, at the end of her collar bone. There is usually a mole there that’s darker than the rest and always draws her attention. When she pulls away, a dot of ink remains in its place. 

They’re both holding their breath at this point and Lucretia does not even dare look up to Lup as she presses another one—the very point of her shoulder. 

Just like that, she presses one after another, after another until her shoulder finally starts to look similar to what it did before. The only problem is that besides the darker freckles, she also had the light ones and there was no way that Lucretia would be able to recreate those with just this pen. Not to mention, that she cannot recreate her and Taako’s overlay of golden freckles over the brown ones. 

She pauses at the base of her neck and moves so that she is kneeling on the bed next to her, still not daring to look up at Lup. She leans forward and as soft as she can presses the tip to the very base of her neck. Lup is trying not the react and breath but the hitch is inevitable, but Lucretia manages to pull away before it smears. 

She dares just a glance up at Lup and her eyes are blown wide, and just for that moment that they make eye contact, Lucretia loses the star map in her head that she was following. 

“You good?” Lup asks, a little breathless, and Lucretia does not know why, she was the one doing all the work. 

She nods and gets back to it—without even asking her to, Lup tilts her head back, allowing for her to continue. There is not as many marks on her neck as were on her shoulders but she’s careful about where she’s placing them. 

Lucretia pauses when she presses a mark to her chin, she could either continue up or finish up her other shoulder. 

Lup makes the decision for her. 

“Here,” she offers, and takes Lucretia’s empty hand to pull her just a bit closer and lets her rest her hand on her thigh and tilts her head, offering the side of her face. 

Almost automatically, as to divert her focus from the hot skin underneath her hand, she starts drawing the freckles. Lucretia knows if she spends more than one moment on Lup’s touch, she’ll be overwhelmed and flooded. 

There’s the other part of her that wants to focus on it, to feel all of it so she might be able to later take notes on it and describe it in full detail. The chronicler part of her _desperately_  wants to take her time, to fully experience this intimate moment, but her mind is completely fizzled for lack of a better term. There’s fluff filling her mouth and spilling out, keeping her from speaking in fear of saying something wrong along with not being able to file together a coherent sentence. As right now, Lucretia can barely put together a coherent thought. 

Each mark she makes, each freckle and mole, brings Lup closer and closer to the memory she has of her, but she wishes that she had another pen, a golden one to also bring those marks to life. The golden overlay is something that Lucretia has never seen before and stirs something inside of her.

Without even noticing, Lucretia starts drawing the freckles on her ear—the one that’s right at the base, at the tip, the curve—and Lup lets out a strangled noise. She claps a hand over her mouth and the other goes to grip Lucretia’s hand that is still on her thigh. 

Her ears flick away from her and press tight against her head and that draws Lucretia away from her focus, “Lup?” she struggles, wondering what she did wrong. There is something tight and twisting in her and even more at Lup’s hand gripping hers and forcing her to squeeze just a bit. 

“Real sensitive, babe,” she mumbles and for once, Lup is averting her gaze and then she squeezes her eyes shut. 

“Sorry,” she murmurs but she is already distracted by something else, “Can you, uh, keep your eyes closed for a second?” 

Lup almost literally freezes under her focus as she very carefully presses the pen to Lup’s eyelid. She had a mole right underneath her eyebrow and then a sunspot at the corner of her eye, not to mention the two freckles underneath her eye. 

Without even stopping, she slips her hand out from underneath Lup’s so that she can now switch and do the other side of her face—she places her hand back onto Lup’s thigh. 

Quickly, she gets her eyes done so that she may open them again, but Lup keeps them closed for a much longer time than necessary. Lucretia does not question her as her own mind is still static. 

It is not until she is pressing the last few marks to her chin does Lup slowly open her eyes, just barely peaking out. Lucretia recognizes that look—she’s seen it many times, granted never directed at her, and it sends her heart into a stuttering rampage. Finally, now that her focus is waining, she can feel the sweat that is accumulating on her hands and her own pulse shuddering through her as her own heart attempts the impossible feat of trying to keep up with her. 

Lup opens her mouth to speak, but Lucretia isn’t quite done and can’t stop herself from pressing just the last marks to her. By far her faintest freckles and probably go unnoticed by most as Lup sometimes wears some sort of lipstick or gloss, Lucretia presses the last freckles on her full lips. 

Lucretia doesn’t pull away, but she does let her aching arm drop. 

The eye contact is overwhelming but she can’t look away from Lup’s dark eyes, and once before, she had been afraid to categorize her gaze as hungry, but now with herself nearly on the other girl’s lap, she does it without hesitation, and maybe even bumps it up into _starving_. 

She wonders if her own gaze could also be categorized as such. 

Her obsessive thoughts don’t sway however, “Do you… do you have a gold one too? It doesn’t look right without both,” she admits, letting the words leave her lips on lips that feel numb. Her entire body feels numb except for the one point of contact that is her hand, that is steadily burning up as she shifts it to feel the soft texture of Lup’s thigh under her fingers. 

Lup snorts, “It’s just gonna get messed up in a second anyway.” 

And Lucretia opens her mouth to protest because she desperately doesn’t want any of her work to go to waste, especially not after spending so long on it. The protest is in her mouth as Lup curls her hand around the back of her neck and pulls her in to kiss her. 

It takes a second, but the numbness that has been plaguing her—and that she has been encouraging the entire night—ebbs away, leaving behind a waking warmth and eventual, curling flame. She presses a kiss back, hoping to chase the fire that really embodies Lup in every single way, her own hand desperately curling on her shoulder to stop her from ever pulling away. 

Lucretia unintentionally pulls back with a suddenly realization. Lup looks confused, but not hurt in the slightest, if anything she just looks eager to _continue_. “What?” she asks, glancing around to see if there were anything in the room that triggered her. 

Her hand curls around bare shoulder, “I didn’t finish,” she murmurs, now completely distracted with the fact that she has _unfinished work_. 

Lup laughs, and it is bright and joyful and touches Lucretia’s ears in a way that eases her and relaxes a lot of the anxieties within her. With a bit of a streak of inspiration and daring, she squeezes Lup’s thigh, and just like that Lup’s laughter softens into just occasional giggles. She brings both of her hands up to cup Lucretia’s face, and brings her close to nuzzle her and Lucretia desperately wants to tilt and kiss her. 

“Luc, you are so fucking cute, holy shit,” she muses and she does give Lucretia what she wants and kisses her. It is slower this time, softer, but she can barely focus on her lips when Lup's finger tips are slowly running along her face, tracing each line and leaving a blazing trail.

It’s completely overwhelming but Lucretia still chases her lips again when they part, pressing one last chaste kiss to Lup’s lips and she can feel the smile underneath her own. Even as they pull apart, her eyes drift to her lips—full and swollen now, the marks that she had so painstakingly drawn on now smeared or gone from her own doing. 

With a gulp and sudden rush of heat, she thinks, _I did that_. Not only her swollen lips, but the high flush on her cheeks, the glazed look in her eye, and the smearing around her mouth. 

Lucretia normally just records, writes what happened and what others did, but she _did this_. She created this. 

“Something on my face?” Lup jokes and swipes at her face, but her eyes tell that she knows that Lucretia is just eating her up and appreciating every part of her. Lup soaks in the attention as she always does. A flower that turns toward the thing that will give her the most warmth. 

Lucretia has never been a source of warmth before—and dare she even compare herself to a _sun_ —but she could learn. For a flower as beautiful as Lup, she would learn. 

Carefully, regardless that earlier she had her hands all over Lup, she tucks some of her curled hair behind her ear, a soft smile playing at her lips. “No, but,” she pauses, her gaze drifting down to her chest, suddenly struck with how there are marks missing there, but she swallows down her pride. That seems to be maybe too intimate despite the fact that Lucretia was still practically in her lap. “No,” she decides on. 

“No?” she laughs, smoothing out Lucretia’s shirt for her, and presses a quick kiss to her nose. 

“No, but I think…” she pauses and her gaze drifts once again, much to Lup’s amusement, “You should show Taako before the magic wears off.” 

Lup blinks once before she lets out a startled laugh that scares Lucretia, and she gets nervous that maybe she said something wrong. Lup pulls away, “You’re right, honey’s gotta make bank.” 

And even though Lup has stopped touching her, she still feels the warmth ghosting over her skin. A residual touch that is still licking at her skin, an overall feeling that she has never experienced before, and Lucretia is secretly very excited for a chance to define it—and to experience it again. 

Lup stands in her door and Lucretia is still stuck to her own bed, buzzing and desperate to write. She pauses and turns back, narrowing her eyes at Lucretia, and a sudden chill goes down her back and a fear of _what did she do wrong_. “Are you… are you just trying to get me to leave so you can write about this?” she asks incredulously, crossing her arms. 

Her throat goes dry, but she can’t really deny it. “ _Yes,_ ” and it comes out breathier and more desperate than she wants for.

Lup gives her one last laugh and a wink, “Make it a good one—I wanna read it later, babe.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up @ [trustlup](http://trustlup.tumblr.com) on tumblr


End file.
